


Danger

by BiancaBlue



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Adrenaline Junkie, F/M, Mutual Attraction, Planet Namek, Possessive Behavior, Scenting, Sex, Smut, Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22743706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiancaBlue/pseuds/BiancaBlue
Summary: All alone on Namek and with no sign of her friends, Bulma is passing the time hiding out in a cave. Little does she know that a certain Saiyan prince knows where she is, and he's got plans for her.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 18
Kudos: 180





	Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so this is a thing that I wrote. Definitely not something I thought I'd do, but when the inspiration itches, I gotta scratch it.
> 
> Hope you're thirsty.

The cave was cold and dark, stale air hanging heavily in the musty cavern. Her nice, warm capsule house was waiting for her only a few paces away, but Bulma wanted some fresh air after being cooped up inside for so long. The air wasn’t what she expected though, and she found herself already wanting to head back in.

How outrageous was it that Krillin and Gohan insisted that she stay here, all alone like a sitting duck on some strange planet, riddled with dangerous spacemen? It was only a matter of time before something happened to her. Stomping a foot onto the ground, she began to talk to herself, fists clenched tight.

“I swear, next time I see those two, I’m going to kick their asses! How dare they abandon me!”

She mustered all her frustration into kicking a small pebble and trudged back to the door, back inside the relative safety of her little den.

Fear had never gripped her so strongly as when Vegeta and the man named Zarbon had ruthlessly fought right in front of her. Zarbon was gorgeous, her savior in the wake of the storm that was Vegeta, but when he morphed into a hideous monster, she found herself beginning to root for the Saiyan prince, much to her chagrin. She had to admit to herself, though – he wasn’t that bad looking, either.

Not to mention the way he went after Zarbon, his punches and blows effortless, rippling muscles hiding behind the stretchy material of his too tight suit. It was both brutal and fascinating. Drool-worthy, even. She wondered what else those muscles could be put to use for.

Plopping herself onto the couch, her face fell into her hands and she groaned with annoyance. Why was she having these thoughts? She was here for Yamcha. Though they hadn’t been getting along before his death, and she and him were in the middle of one of their breaks, he was still a friend to her. He needed her now more than ever, and she was daydreaming about his murderer?

Clearly she was just hungry; she’d only eaten a single bag of chips all day and it was getting to her head. Shifting gears once again, Bulma went to go through the fridge. She fantasized about strawberry ice cream, sinfully delicious, but to her disappointment there was only a pint of plain vanilla, inedible from freezer burn after sitting untouched for a few months too long. Her mood was dropping lower by the minute.

She heard the door to the capsule house open and shut behind her and felt the anger inside her reach a boiling point. So Krillin and Gohan _finally_ decided to come back. It didn’t matter how petty it was, she was going to give them the silent treatment. The box of frozen taquitos she had in her sights deserved far more attention than they did. After a minute of waiting for them to attempt a sorry excuse for an apology, she realized it wasn’t coming. A cold chill ran through her when she noted that she didn’t even hear footsteps walk off.

“So this is where you’re hiding.”

Bulma froze. She had heard that voice before, earlier, when Krillin had stood in front of her against a threat so unbridled, so caustic, that she thought it would be their sure end. The sound oozed regality, flowing like rich, dark chocolate into her ears and reverberating with deep tones. It commanded her attention. And it shook her to her core.

Quite literally.

Slowly, she turned around to face her unexpected visitor.

There, standing in the doorway, was the object of both her nightmares and her unwanted desire, planted tall and firm on two powerful feet with a shock of spiky black hair erupting from his head like a crown of pure evil. It put all her instincts on overdrive. Tiny hairs bristled on her arms, overly sensitive to the cool air churning out from the open freezer. Her brain was screaming red alert, blaring its every warning bell that the presence in front of her was not right. It could not be trusted. Bulma hesitated before her voice caught in her throat and fizzled out into a squeak.

“V-Vegeta.” Damn it! Her efforts to maintain her cool already started to crumble and from the knowing look he gave her, he was more than thrilled with that information. “How did you…?”

He approached her, his stride as resolute as the plans he undoubtedly had for her were sharpening their knives in the whetstone of his mind. When he finally sliced into her composure, would he be so cruel as to twist the blade in the wound?

“I was minding my business, about to stop for rest in a cave, when I noticed an almost nonexistent power level all by itself. Can’t have that, can we?”

Bulma gulped and took a step back. Saying she was terrified was an understatement, but she wasn’t going to back down from him just yet. She would show him what it meant to mess with the smartest woman in the galaxy. But still, the situation was disconcerting. Why was he here? There wasn’t possibly anything he could want from her.

“I don’t have any dragon balls,” she said with more courage. “You took the only one Krillin and I had.” Vegeta stepped closer to her, face lacking any kind of readable expression, only adding to the terror Bulma was feeling. She jumped when her back hit a wall and the Saiyan made to stand right in front of her, looking down on her as a cat would a mouse.

“Silly Earth woman,” he drawled in that mesmerizing, deep voice. “I’m not here for the dragon balls.” Bulma’s eyes were glued to his, not paying attention to the soulless black depths but rather the sounds of her pulse thundering in her ears in anticipation of his next words. A puff of warm air hit the shell of her ear and she shivered. “I’m here for _you_.”

Something snapped in her brain – the straps that kept her fastened to her mind and grounded her to reality. Upon hearing him, her previously boisterous self-assurances whispered into nothings, simmering away like the last embers of a powerful blaze. 

He wanted her. Did she hear him correctly? This untamed force of nature, known across the universe as the harbinger of destruction, wanted to bed her. Her rational mind would have most certainly said no, but that part of her was now gone.

“Let’s play a game,” he whispered into her ear. 

Bulma bit her lip. A sick sort of excitement washed over her. She shouldn’t be playing into his scheme, but she was more than giddy at the prospect of it. If this game had anything to do with seeing him shirtless then she was curious. “What are the rules?”

He smirked, running his fingertips down the length of her arm. “It’s simple. I get to make you feel good but on one condition. You cannot touch me. Can you do that for me?”

Bulma stopped listening upon hearing the two words that signaled her pleasure: _feel good_. It didn’t matter what he said after – she wanted in. But it was so wrong. She tried to tamp down on the excitement but there was a disconnect between her words and her brain. The thought of trying to back down from his offer was enough to short out the circuits. Try as she might, no words would come out of her mouth in protest.

Vegeta’s face grew dark at her silence. “Don’t act like you’re not interested. I can smell the desire all over you,” he hissed. “I will ask you again. _Can you do that for me?_ ”

Fuck the consequences. She was doing it. Her eyes widened in enchantment and she nodded.

He grinned darkly at her acquiescence. _There we go_. A gloved hand gently stroked her hair before trailing down her jaw and holding her chin between his index finger and thumb, tilting it upwards. 

Bulma gasped when their noses were just barely touching, lips a hair’s breadth away from meeting. His eyes were swirling with lust, demanding that she allow him to sweep her away in his gale. He’d be the lightning and she’d be his thunder.

Without hesitation she closed the gap. He returned it, his mouth near bruising against hers in its intensity. She licked the poison from his kiss, feeling it course through her as she began her descent down the rabbit hole of sin. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. Her hands reached for his neck, seeking the comfort of warm skin, but his own were quick to prevent it, pinning them to the wall above her head. 

Vegeta glared daggers at her and growled low from his chest. What was this woman not getting about no touching? He was the one in control of the situation, not her. Issuing a warning, he nipped her lower lip, intending to remind her of where she stood in this game.

Tremors shook Bulma’s body as she indulged in the taste of Vegeta. From nerves or anticipation she couldn’t be certain. Fire was consuming her from within but butterflies were dancing in her stomach. It was crazy how something so simple could elicit such sensations inside her. There must have been a spell that was cast onto her to make her drawn to his flame.

The Saiyan paused when he felt her shivering against him. He couldn’t deny it was a bit chilly in the room, but she was completely warm from his nearness. How could she be cold when her body temperature was elevated? Raising a brow, he leveled her a quizzical look. The woman noticed his stare and pulled away from the kiss with reluctance.

“I’m not scared,” she lied. 

He took a deep whiff of her neck before drawing his lips up to her ear. 

“Are you sure?” he purred. His voice wrapped itself around her ear and clicked into place like a harness on a rollercoaster – secure, but not necessarily safe.

Bulma lived for the thrill. All her life she had been walking on the edge. Traveling to faraway lands, meeting strangers, and besting baddies with the friends she’d made along the way. She’d done it all, seen it all. Hell, journeying to Namek was no feat for the cowardly soul.

If he thought she was going to cower or run away, he’d better think again. Because she was going to face danger, jump right into danger.

And have danger inside her.

She pulled his face to hers. “I don’t give a damn what you smell on me. I want you.”

With a heavy hand, Vegeta gripped her jaw, nestling his nose right behind her ear and breathing in deeply. What he smelled was absolutely intoxicating. His tongue darted out for a quick taste.

“What’s the magic word?”

“...Please.”

In a flash her top was ripped off, leaving her in her bra and leggings. She staggered forward in surprise and a wall of solid muscle and heat was against her back in an instant, harsh breaths ruffling the hairs on her nape. Bulma couldn’t even see his face, but she knew if she looked into Vegeta’s eyes she would spontaneously combust under their fire. Teeth bit into her ear – making her yelp – and at the same time, her bra was ripped in half and tumbling to her feet.

The speed at which he moved reminded Bulma that who she was dealing with was not human, but instead of putting her off, it made her even more intrigued. Just what was a man like him capable of in the sheets? Her face reddened at the thought, only serving to make her more aroused than she already was.

His hands smoothed down the fabric of her leggings, past the curve of her hips and over the swell of her ass. Bulma stood waiting for his next move while he conducted his examination. How long would she be waiting before he would gift her with his uncovered hands against her waiting flesh? The thought had no time to simmer when he gave her bottom a squeeze and the stretchy material, along with her panties, were torn like paper from her legs.

Bulma was stark naked in the cold room yet overheating from the Saiyan’s bodily influence. His hands circled around the part of her that craved his contact the most but he wouldn’t touch her nether lips, choosing instead to tease her with promises of something more. Something better. With one last kiss of her neck, the room’s orientation was thrown out of whack and Bulma couldn’t tell which way was up and which was down. It took her a second to regain her bearings and realize that she was lying on something, lamenting the loss of heat from her back.

Biting the fingertip of a glove, Vegeta slowly pulled it off his hand with his teeth, eyes predatory yet inviting her to stay where she was. He had her right where he wanted her: bare and laid out just for him. No matter what transpired, he was going to make her his. By the time he was done here she’d forget all about that human of hers.

He had her sprawled on the table, her back uncomfortable against the hard surface. Pulling her knees apart, he spread her thighs to give him access to his prize. There, glistening in front of him, was her pink womanhood. He brushed a finger gently across her inner thigh and it lightly grazed her center. Bulma squirmed impatiently in response.

“Eager, are we?” he lightly chuckled, noticing the slight wetness that clung to his hand. He gripped the tops of her thighs to keep her in place as he moved his head down between them, the black fire of his hair peeking out from below. Inhaling deeply, the sharp scent of her arousal went straight to his brain and made his head swim. Oh, she was eager alright.

He stuck his tongue into her folds and Bulma inhaled sharply, roughly grabbing at his hair. She braced for more but whimpered when he pulled away and lifted his head to look into her eyes.

“Ah, ah, ah. No touching,” he reprimanded, removing her hands from his hair.

Bulma’s eyes widened. “But–”

“I said _no_.” His voice was stern and his eyes burned into hers, melting away the last vestiges of her resolve.

She wanted to protest further, but out of fear that he would turn on his heel and walk out the door if she challenged him again, she stayed quiet. It wasn’t fair. What was she supposed to grab on to? 

When Vegeta was sure she wouldn’t try anything, he moved back down to continue. His hands went back to her thighs, thumbs stroking the soft skin, and he licked a circle around her nub before he delved in.

“ _Ah!_ ” Bulma cried, arching her back and digging her nails into the hard table. His tongue worked her expertly, reaching parts of her that drew out the sweetest pleasure as he firmly held her flailing legs down. He got a rhythm going as he alternated between dipping his tongue in, then pulling out slightly to suck on her sensitive bundle of nerves. 

Bulma clenched her teeth and hissed at his torture. Manicured nails were uselessly scraping away at the table’s surface and she feared they would break at any more pressure. Unconsciously, her arms moved towards Vegeta’s head but she halted them before they reached their destination. She wanted to scream with frustration and she grabbed at her own hair instead. 

Suddenly, a finger was slipped in alongside his tongue and Bulma gasped, pulling her blue tresses and writhing on the table without grace. She bit her lip to prevent herself from getting too vocal, but her pitiful whimpers still managed to slip through. Heat was coiling tightly in her belly and she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she was thrust into the throes of release.

Vegeta added a second finger and Bulma couldn’t breathe. Her vision was going white and she was struggling to hold on as he stroked just the right spot inside her, his thumb massaging her clit, the added combination of his hot mouth driving her senses haywire. How was it that he knew exactly what made her tick? She exploded with a cry and electricity skittered down her spine, igniting her synapses and thrumming her system to life.

She panted heavily as she felt him grin against her core before lapping up her release and giving the center of her pleasure one last long, languid lick. Her hands retreated from her head and she wasn’t surprised when she saw that she had ripped out a few strands. She was still coming down from the high of her orgasm, unbelieving at the strength of it. Never had she ever felt something like that before and it was only a damn tongue and fingers! Yamcha couldn’t even compete.

Only a dangerous man possessed a power like that.

But Bulma was not going to be dissuaded. She would always throw herself into the cage with the bear for a taste of the thrill.

Vegeta stood up tall, looking down at her with a newfound hunger and a devious smile. Leaning down, he placed a sensuous kiss on her lips that made Bulma nearly come apart again just from its gentleness. He licked her lips and down her chin to her jaw as he picked her up into his arms and brought her to the couch, never letting up on his attentions. Bulma responded by lifting her chin to grant him better access to her neck, to which he obliged and littered it with hot, open mouthed kisses and sensual nips with his sharp teeth.

Fuck, he was good.

She felt the soft cushions of the couch under her back and opened her eyes to see the Saiyan slowly removing his armor, dropping it to the floor with a thud and moving to remove his spandex top. As if he had all the time in the world, he leisurely lifted the garment up, revealing inch by delicious inch of toned tan skin. She watched as his glorious abs revealed themselves to her, on to his pectorals, and then finally his well-built biceps.

Outstretching her arms towards him, she squirmed with anticipation. She wanted to finally touch him, feel the heat of his skin against her own, and she whined impatiently. 

“Hurry!” she begged. She didn’t care how insane she must have been to want him. She was playing with fire and she loved every second of it.

His eyes never left hers as he slowly removed his pants, Bulma attempting to maintain eye contact but increasingly tempted to look lower the closer he got to freeing his obvious erection. When it finally sprung out, Bulma intook a deep breath. Holy hell was he big.

She waved her arms giddily as he approached her in all his naked glory, dainty hands nearly copping a feel of his torso. Finally, she was going to get to trace her fingers across all those muscles. The excitement was rolling off her in waves. But he stopped just shy of her reach and she looked up at him with a frown.

“Flip over,” he ordered. 

Bulma grew distraught. “What?! But I–” Before she could air her grievances, he completed his demand for her, moving her so that she was on her hands and knees on the couch, her back to him and her face in the pillow. “But I wanna touch you,” she nearly cried. This was so unfair! He was granting her his touch but her hands still lay cold and wanting.

“I told you there would be no touching. That has not changed,” he growled as he moved himself behind her on the couch, “but if I am feeling it later, perhaps that rule can be lifted. That depends on your performance.” He proceeded to reach around to her breasts, rolling a nipple with the fingers on each hand. Bulma released a sigh. Just this once, she would let someone else take over control.

A furry tail wound itself around her right leg, attempting to spread them even wider so Vegeta could fit his hips between them. His large hand grasped her hip tightly as he positioned himself at her entrance. 

Bulma took another deep breath. This was the moment. The culmination of all of her life choices was right here, on some nowhere planet, with some guy she was afraid of not even an hour earlier. Adrenaline came pouring into her, not unlike the night rides she used to take on her motorcycle. 

She wanted to feel the same rush that she felt when the wind would scatter her hair behind her like a blue flame, the press of gloved fingers into the handle bars and revving her engine to life. Taking each turn in stride, hugging the inner edge, holding a breath as she thrived in tandem with danger.

Regret was not in her vocabulary. Vegeta may not know it yet, but she was behind the wheel. Bulma owned her fate no matter where it lead her.

To her surprise, Vegeta leaned down over her and kissed her softly, and she responded by turning her head and taking his mouth in hers briefly, sucking on his lower lip before releasing him.

He pushed in slowly, the thick tip entering her, taking his time reveling in the feel of her around him, squeezing him like she couldn’t bear to let go. The heat and wetness was almost too much. His head flew back and he sighed, mouth agape.

Bulma couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. He stretched her so perfectly, sliding into her without too much resistance. She wanted to move against him, to draw more of him into her, but she couldn’t do much except grasp the pillow and wait, feeling him stretch and fill her like no other. After what seemed like forever, he was fully sheathed inside her. She winced. It was a little painful, but she could deal with some soreness.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Vegeta hissed, dropping his forehead down against her neck and panting heavily. Bulma wiggled her ass encouragingly.

“Whatcha waiting for?” she taunted, breathlessness also evident in her sultry voice. He nipped her in response and she felt him pull out to the tip before roughly thrusting back in.

Bulma squeaked as he pounded into her at a punishing pace, retribution for her little quip no doubt. She stopped trying to hide her moans now, vocalizing her pleasure uninhibited as the feeling overwhelmed her completely. Sweat slicked between their two bodies and the friction became hotter and even more delectable.

Her clarity was slipping away and all she could think about was the feel of Vegeta’s thick shaft pistoning in and out of her with reckless abandon. His light moans puffed into her ear and she couldn’t help but grin with pride that she brought him to this state. She attempted to meet his thrusts by pushing her ass against him and squeezing around him to give him that extra sensation.

Reaching for her core, she craved the additional push to the finish line, to make colors flash in her vision and send her over the edge, but he grabbed her arm and stopped her progression, moving it back to the pillow and holding it down.

“Vegeta,” she whimpered wantonly. She needed it like she needed air to breathe. Why was he so determined to be unfair to her? Her prayer was answered when he moved his hand back down to do the honors himself.

She cried out feverishly from his merciless torture as she begged him for more. He pulsated inside of her and her walls gripped him tighter in return. Bulma was desperate for release. She just needed a little more.

“Harder,” she pressed, knuckles white from her iron grip on the pillow and eyes pressed shut from Vegeta’s serving of lethal bliss. His hand touched her inner thigh, the caress deceptively soft but searing fire in its wake. 

“You’re not the one giving orders,” he retorted, but Bulma could hear the humor in his voice as he said it. To her glee he listened anyway, and the pace of his thrusts became utterly inhuman. Her blood boiled with adrenaline and liquid ecstasy and she felt the dam break instantaneously.

“ _Vegeta!_ ” she wailed, coming undone and falling over the brink even harder than the last time, the tidal wave of euphoria crashing into her and sweeping away all thought. The hurricane that was the Saiyan on top of her collided with the storm and soon enough, he was caught in the wave.

He came hard with a growl, releasing himself inside of her, and his rumble slowly turned into a purr as the furor of their climax dimmed into a comfortable afterglow. The sound of their pants was music to Bulma’s ears, as was the sound of Vegeta giving out and collapsing onto her back, totally spent.

After a few moments she felt him pull out and fall to his side, and she startled when he wrapped his thick arms around her and stuck his face into her neck. Could this mean…?

“Can I?” she whispered, eyes observing the subtle twitches of his muscles as aftershocks still wracked his body.

“Go ahead,” he replied breathlessly, hot breath ghosting over her sweaty neck. Bulma felt irrationally excited at this, at having finally tamed danger. She ran a hand across his arm, burning the image of every dip and ridge into her memory. It was the only way she thought to commemorate her victory. His muscles were just as impressive as she’d hoped – bronzed with a sheen of sweat, shining like a trophy of accomplishment.

When she gave it some thought, Vegeta wasn’t that scary. Surely she had dealt with worse in her life. Or maybe she was just that brave.

His tail wove its way around her arm, the brown fur wonderfully soft against her overheated skin. She couldn’t believe she was thinking this, but she was sad that he would have to go.

“You’re fucking crazy,” he told her, voice husky with exhaustion. A hearty laugh erupted from Bulma’s mouth and she flashed her toothiest smile.

“Yeah, I know.”

Vaguely she recalled that they hadn’t used any protection, but Bulma was wrapped too tightly in her blanket of post-orgasmic high to pay it any more thought. It was only one time – surely nothing would come of it. Her hands moved down to his chest and she lightly massaged his skin, punctuating her efforts with a kiss on his forehead. He groaned lazily at the gesture.

“I need to leave. I’ve wasted enough time here as it is,” he said, releasing her and rolling onto his back. 

“What, already?” Bulma pouted.

“Your little friends are probably stealing my dragon balls. I will have to take them back.”

“Good. Then you can beat the snot out of them for leaving me all alone!”

“You don’t seem too upset about that now.”

“Shh,” she giggled, playfully tapping his nose.

His lips curved up into a slight smirk. “Need I remind you that I will soon have my wish for immortality and vanquish Frieza to hell? Then I will assume my role as emperor of–”

“Yeah, yeah,” she waved him off, “whatever. Just make sure when everything is said and done, you’ll come swing by Earth again sometime.” He grunted and just from the tone Bulma could tell he assented. She went in for one last embrace and smiled against his chest, excited for what was to come.

With haste Vegeta changed back into his clothes, and Bulma watched with a longing smile, the side of her face resting in her hand, as the last bits of his armor were put on and he made for the door. He looked over his shoulder at her once he was in front of the exit, gifting her a small grin wrapped with a bow just for her.

“You shouldn’t be getting involved in dangerous situations like these, you know,” he admonished, the amusement in his voice not missing Bulma. She laughed.

“I think we both know that no matter what’s thrown my way, I can always handle a little danger.”

His heated gaze tilted towards her, eyes gleaming with challenge. “Just a little? Not a lot? Not _all_ of danger?” With equal fervor she looked straight at him. 

“I’m Bulma Briefs. I eat danger for breakfast.”

“Is that so?”

She winked. “See you tomorrow, then.”


End file.
